


Void

by Khemi



Category: Homestuck, MS Paint Adventures
Genre: Brothers, Canonical Character Death, Drabble, Grief/Mourning, Hurt No Comfort, M/M, Post SBURB, Sadstuck, implied stridercest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-04
Updated: 2014-03-04
Packaged: 2018-01-14 12:12:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1266088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Khemi/pseuds/Khemi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <span>There’s a void in the world.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>You wonder, sometimes, if anyone else knows it’s there. It’s a gap, a silence between moments that should have been filled. A laugh that never follows a joke, a shoulder that isn’t there for you to lean your head against, a greeting that is nothing but silence when you enter the door.</span>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Void

**Author's Note:**

> I recently found out my Grandma is being pulled off chemo and I have a lot of emotion right now because it's at the stage we know she doesn't have long left. I vent through writing, so I wrote this short drabble of Dave talking about Bro after the game, and yeah. Stridercest implied. Enjoy.

There’s a void in the world.

You wonder, sometimes, if anyone else knows it’s there. It’s a gap, a silence between moments that should have been filled. A laugh that never follows a joke, a shoulder that isn’t there for you to lean your head against, a greeting that is nothing but silence when you enter the door.

There’s dust on things that should be clean, there’s projects uncompleted that still sit waiting for hands to pick them up and put them together.

Sometimes you look up for a smile that isn’t there, on a face that fades from your mind with every passing day until the sharp clarity it once held is muddied like a sepia photograph.

You can’t remember his voice, anymore.

When you play old family videos, tears sting in your eyes as you listen to the words of a stranger.

In the dark your mind travels down dark paths and twisting roads, through old memories you can’t quite recall and the dreams of a future you once had, that lies bloody and broken where you left his body to rot. The things you remember clearest are so small, once insignificant, but now you  crave something as simple as the touch of his fingers to your cheek, the way his cheeks crinkled when he grinned at you, the way his thumbs would have brushed away your tears as he told you it’s alright to cry.

Some nights, the tears don’t come at all.

You sit staring at nothing and feel numb.

Those nights are the worst.

Other times, you try to remember the last time you saw him, try to wash away the vivid scent of his blood that still haunts your nightmares. You wish you know what the last thing you heard him say was, what the last words that left you to him ever were.

You used to have this romantic notion that you’d always remember them clearly, something so important as that.

They’ve bled like ink into a cup of water.

All you remember are swirling fragments, and words just on the tip of your tongue.

If you’d known when he would go, you would have treasured him. Every moment was a blessing and you squandered it, let each precious memory fade away, because there was always tomorrow.

Always another tomorrow.

And then…

There were none.

There was a name and old photographs and his ghost slipping through your fingers like sand as you realised too late what he was worth and could do nothing but grasp at the last, fleeting remnants of him, holding them close and begging for him not to leave.

But the dead do not speak, so now nor does he.

You rewind the videos and play them all over again, but his words never alter, and he never answers when you whisper to the screen  _why did you go?_

It’s been so long, now, but you still expect to see him every day, still pass closed doors and feel like he’s just beyond them, and crumble all over again when he’s not.

You sometimes turn with a smile to call to him.

Your smile freezes, and cracks like your heart, and you carry on like you didn’t make the mistake, pretending that the tears on your cheeks aren’t there.

It should be easy, to remember.

But it’s not.

There’s a void in the world, and it’s just the right shape for the person you love more than anyone else.

Other people know he’s gone, but you…

You see the places where he’s still almost there.


End file.
